Virus Tales: Ferry Across..

It’s not Gerry Marsdon’s ( and his Pacemakers ) Mersey , but one half a world away , physically and economically : Frisco Bay . We were staying across the Bay from San Francisco proper, just a ferry ride away . This area is effectively the north end of Silicon Valley , and our suburb, Sausalito, very genteel. This was indeed monied, although in a restrained way. The local traffic wardens were equipped with three wheeler scooter things . Policing with refinement and politeness .

It wasn’t always so . The gold rush kicked off development, no doubt in a very raw way . This spawned San Francisco , which remained desirable , despite the earthquake and subsequent fire. Sausalito developed into a place for week end cabins , and a commute , initially by ferry , then bridge. The Second World War invoked a revolution . US Army Corps decided that it was a perfect location for a ship yard . Starting with a swamp and hillside , a shipyard exploded into the locale ; producing it’s first ship in an incredible 6 months . Frenetic activity continued , and the yard produced 120 ships , most heavily armoured petrol tankers , before the war’s end .

Then suddenly the yard closed , with corresponding unemployment . Desperate for accommodation , redundant material was converted in homemade houses on stilts and boats ; avoiding the need to prove land ownership. There then ensured a twenty year battle between the well healed permanent residents , and the hippy commune that grew up on the waters edge . Growing affluence determined the outcome . The stilts and house boats now command nearly 7 figure sums ; and the sea around is filled with yacht marinas . The yard itself is now the locale for consumer support for that affluence , principally yacht maintenance.

The ferry commuters now spend their time on pre-office work , although surprisingly the ferry does not provide wifi. I suppose it is always in range of phone towers. On our way we pass close to Alcatraz , after a ferry change , our tourist destination . The prison island was indeed as bleak as expected. The cells were stacked three high in four long rows . The ‘ doors ‘ were grills offering no privacy. At the end of the rows was a gallery , barred off , not for minstrels, but gun toting wardens . The only cells with doors were for those in solitary, these excluded all light ; indeed a hell hole. The prison was closed not long after three inmates dug their way out with spoons , and escaped the island in an inflatable boat built from macs. They were never seen again. A developer proposed a hotel and shopping mall for the redundant island . However a group of Indians invoked a treaty clause that said redundant federal land should revert to them . The government , not renowned for honouring Indian treaties , declared the prison a tourist location ; thus denying the Indians ownership.

Our ‘tourisma ‘ continued on a Big Bus circular route , where we passed the Google bus transporting those few remaining employees actually commuting . Another local IT company couldn’t get out of its office lease , so the MD instructed all employees to return from home to avoid a white elephant syndrome. A third resigned ; the MD was fired. The bus crossed the Golden Gate Bridge , those of us stupid enough to remain on the open top upper deck had a suitably scary ride , and with the immediate return crossing , totally frozen . We alighted to seek warmth in a very upmarket city centre mall . Wondering why each shop had an armed guard? ; the answer : the homeless had also decided it was a place of warmth. The returning cable car traversed the switch back roads , whilst we wondered if the driver was really fit enough to pull the enormous brake and clutch levers , and what would happen if he collapsed . Perhaps the second man at the rear has an emergency brake .

Man , or American man , has fundamentally changed the nature of the Bay , its offshoots and the two main river deltas. Soil from hydraulic mining for gold has substantially silted the bay , despite its size ; the deltas drained for farming , and substantial land reclaimed for development . In the 1960’s a monster of a proposal was to virtually enclose vast areas from the sea. Congress approved , as a first step , the construction of an hydraulic model to verify feasibility. It wasn’t. Computerisation has replaced this model , which covers an acre inside its own giant shed. It is now open as a visitor centre for tourists . An eventual fate for all redundancies ?.

Our time concluded with a visit to the last remaining giant redwood glade ( its not big enough to call it a forest ) . These 250 feet monsters are the tallest living thing on our planet . They have survived the dinosaur extinction climatic event , and then were saved by Presidential decree. It is to be seen if they survive man’s cataclysmic impact .